Tag Archives: relationships

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How Money Destroys Relationships

Originally in ForbesMoney destroys relationships because people can’t compete with money. Money, after all, doesn’t disappoint you, or express disappointment with you.

It’s not that money is inherently bad or evil, but it’s not inherently good or righteous either. Money is simply a neutral tool that can be used well or poorly. It only has the value—the personality and the relational standing—that we give it.

One of the few criticisms I have of the movement to explore the psychology of money is its use of the phrase “your relationship with money.” Unintentionally, this gives money entirely too much credit by implying personhood. Indeed, if you have a “relationship” with money, you’re likely elevating it unnecessarily, and maybe even subconsciously devaluing those in your life who actually have a heartbeat.

How did we get here, to the point where we’ve personified—and in some cases deified—the “almighty” dollar?

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How A Dorky Holster Saved My iPhone In A 60 MPH Accident

So I’m headed out the door for the REALLY early hot vinyasa yoga class in an attempt to start a long day off with an extra dose of peace, but I’m really not a morning person and shouldn’t be allowed to wake—much less drive a vehicle—at 5:30am.  Nonetheless, I make it to yoga and experience my desired helping of Zen, only to return home and find my 64-gig-4S-runs-my-life-and-makes-it-complete-iPhone—missing.

It’s difficult retracing my steps through the drowsy cloud that was my first 30 minutes of the day, stumbling into the garage, trying to remember the activity’s necessities: yoga mat, 32 ounces of water to replace those I’m about to lose, yogi towel, face towel, shower towel, toiletries—WAIT—is it possible that I put my iPhone on top of the car when I was shoveling all that stuff in the back seat?  Oh [word that I’m attempting to remove from my vernacular]!

But I’m not too awfully worried yet; there were several very slow turns within my community that would likely have sent the phone off the roof gently, maybe even landing in a soft pile of leaves (that haven’t yet fallen from the trees?).  Nope, nothing there.

A-hah!  I remember flipping a toggle switch when I set up my new device that would enable me to “Find My iPhone,” and thankfully found an app on my new iPad bearing the same name.  Hallelujah—the phone appears to be alive, still able to gasp out a GPS signal, and only 1.3 miles from home!  I spread my fingers on the high-retina display to zoom in vivid high definition to see the phone is indeed ON the Jones Falls Expressway—Interstate 83—one of the busiest thoroughfares in the Baltimore metro.  And it’s 8:00am.  On a Tuesday.

As I’m now driving in my car, I’m picturing Daniel Day Lewis in Last of the Mohicans yelling, “No matter what occurs, stay alive.  I will find you!”  But even if I could find it, I can’t imagine justifying a game of human Frogger to retrieve even my favorite genderless e-companion, Siri.  Then, as I approach the location, internally debating whether I should bother the Lord with requests for the safe return of this gadget on steroids, I see her (Siri definitely sounds like a girl to me)—sitting three inches from the white line, resting partially upright in the rumble strips, snug in the dorky holster I bought on Amazon for under $5 (shipping included—from Hong Kong).  I cradle her like a wounded bird into the passenger seat, afraid to remove her from the holster now obscuring what surely must be a fractured face.  I can’t look.  And then I do.  Somehow, amazingly, she survived—unscathed!  My only conclusion is that she landed on the dorkiest part of the dorky holster—the clip—and bounced into the rumble strips to await my brave retrieval.

The moral of this story?  I’m too attached to my iPhone.  Or, maybe I’m too attached to the $849.99 (per Verizon) it would cost to replace her—I mean, it.  I guess I could craft a moral that directs you to phone insurance—in which case, I’d probably tell you it’s a complete rip-off to buy it from Verizon or AT&T for $10 per month with a $169 deductible, and still a pretty penny to pay $99 plus a $50 deductible for Apple Care + or SquareTrade—but I think there’s something a bit more nuanced and meaningful here.

As one entirely capable of unworthily worshipping stuff and occasionally money, I believe we can justify attachments to iPhones and cash only to the point that they enhance our personal relationships (the ones with actual people we know and love).  They are, indeed, incredibly valuable tools in the pursuit of relationships, but it’s vital we don’t allow [insert material object here] to replace them.

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For Love, Not Money

“I commit to nurturing a gratifying relationship with money.”

In the twittersphere, I saw this seemingly noble resolution dart by last week.  I subverted my urge to question it in under 140 characters, but with no such limit here, I’d like to engage this notion that I believe to be fundamentally flawed and potentially dangerous in our quest for personal and financial harmony.

I’m sure this blogger/tweeter, a self-described expert on women’s financial dealings, is well-intended, even when she invites you to “Love your money, love your life,” on her home page.  Reading through her prescriptions, I have no doubt we share many personal financial philosophies; indeed, it is not my intent to start a feud or initiate a personal attack, but instead to take issue with this philosophy I’ve often seen at work in many forums, even if I’m to be accused of merely mincing words.

Money is not something worthy of our love and affection, nor is it a suitable partner in relationship.

Relationship is—or at least should be—reserved for people and love is the currency of relationship.  Money when personified is given too much credit; it becomes an end instead of a means.  Of course, it often is the object of our love, admiration and respect.  Possibly we think that if we address it properly, it will find us worthy of financial favor and bless us with…more?  But not unlike other inappropriate relationships, a love of money often devolves into fantasy, obsession, lust and eventually infidelity.

Your primary relationships in life—your significant other or spouse, your children, your parents and siblings, your friends, your co-workers and co-laborers in service—can’t compete with money.  This is because genuine relationship requires give and take and money appears on its surface only to give, without argument, criticism or judgment. It’s no wonder, then, that with over 50% of marriages ending in divorce over half of those splits cite financial disputes as their origin.  It’s no wonder children manipulate their parents for money and parents cut children out of wills.  It’s no wonder siblings ostracize one another over inheritance, that business partnerships collapse and non-profit initiatives are scarred by financial scandal.  When given an opportunity to compete with people for relationship, money wins.

Therefore, we must never allow money to compete with or for relationship. 

This also appears to be in keeping with money’s design, even in its most primitive form.  The long-held presumption was that money came about as a wildcard in the realm of trade.  Let’s say we’re part of an economy based on the barter system; I’m a farmer who makes dairy products and you’re the village tailor.  You’d like some cheese, but my wife is also gifted with the needle, so I have no need for your services.  You’re out of luck.  Enter money.  You give me money for cheese, and I can use the money to pay the blacksmith for some much needed horseshoes.

This theory has been called into question, though.  Some economists argue that while this may sound logical, actual examples of the barter wildcard are nonexistent.  They claim that money was used more as an I.O.U.  You have something I need, but I have no way to compensate you, so money serves instead as a marker of what is owed—debt, effectively.  While the meaning or importance of money’s origin could be argued, one thing is clear in either of these cases: money was designed to enhance relationship, not stand as its replacement.

And that is no different today.  While money may serve very poorly as the object of our adoration, it is quite effective as a tool for its expression.  Certainly, in suggesting money is not worthy of our love, I by no means intend to imply that it is inherently bad or evil, just neutral.  As my friend and co-author, Jim Stovall, puts so nicely, “Nothing can take the place of money in the things that money does, but outside of the scope where money is useful, it has no value.”

Mincing words?  I think not.  Words are powerful.  Our words express and even inform our beliefs, and we act on what we believe.  What we believe about money will impact what we do for and with it.  But if I’m starting to sound a bit too gray, fuzzy, squishy or philosophical for you, consider these more pragmatic reasons to further entertain my plea:  Those who have put money in its rightful place—out of their hearts and in their bank accounts, investments, homes, educations, businesses and service initiatives—tend to acquire more of it, spending less paying attorneys and compensating ex-spouses, ex-children, ex-friends, ex-business partners, ex-everything.  And lastly, a philosophy grounded in falsehood is eventually destined to fail.  Reason enough to reconsider yours?